


Honesty does not pay off

by Doorway



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Mikkel's cooking, Sigrun's nicknames, wheezing troll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:42:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6155518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doorway/pseuds/Doorway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mikkel and Sigrun are surprised by a troll and have to deal with it. Also they bicker like an old couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honesty does not pay off

It would have been a productive and peaceful day if not for the fact that both their scouts were inside the tank that morning: one still asleep, the other a small cat and therefore a being that had trouble making itself heard.

It would have been a disastrous and fateful day if not for the fact that both of the non-immune people were also inside the tank, behind an open but easy to close door.

It would have been a rather ok day if Sigrun had had her gun with her.

As things tend to do in the silent world, everything went down really fast. One minute he was outside talking with Sigrun (read: listening to Sigrun’s inane complaints) the next they could hear an ominous wheezing sound from the other side of the tank, accompanied by heavy and dragging footsteps.

As Mikkel surveyed the situation, frozen to the spot, he could see the implications in his mind’s eye.

A wheezing troll. An agent of the rash through breath.

There had been no warning, no scout to spot the being.

Tuuri and Reynir were inside the open tank but it was doubtful they wore their masks right now. Soft noises came out of the open door; the kids were talking, unsuspecting.

Sigrun would be able to kill it easily if she had her gun, which also happened to be inside the tank at that moment. A close combat with a knife was very dangerous; by the sound of it, the thing was _enormous._

That left them two options: either shout a warning for Tuuri to close and seal the door immediately, inevitably drawing the grossling’s attention to their unarmed selves (and who knew how fast this thing was?) or risk sneaking to the door so that Sigrun could get her weapon. She’d kill it for sure then, but it might be too late for the two non-immune people.

Well, there was a third option. Mikkel could act as decoy and distract the thing. If he moved fast enough he might draw it away from the rest of the crew immediately, then it would be up to Sigrun and Emil to follow him and kill it. True, it would be extremely dangerous for him, but it was the most logical option. He could run fast enough. Probably.

Now for conveying the message to Sigrun.

“Sigrun–” he began to whisper.

“TUURI close that door,  _RIGHT NOW!!”_

Sigrun’s yell was followed by momentary silence. Then a choked gasp from the inside of the tank, the soft sound of the door being dragged closed, followed by a bang as it got sealed shut; trapping both of them outside.

A tall head reared itself from behind the vehicle, tiny arms grabbing its roof for support.

Mikkel had seen a lot of trolls in his life, but they never ceased to surprise him with the innovative ways in which each and every one of them were malformed.

This one’s face was a huge mess: long, with an unnaturally large and gaping mouth in which misshapen teeth of various sizes were clearly visible. Drool dripped steadily from the hole that once was a human’s mouth, while swollen eyes surveyed them blankly beneath a glistening brow that looked hard enough to smash rocks.

Well, maybe _now_ if he managed to draw the thing’s attention to himself, Sigrun could at least ambush it from behind with her knife or–

“RUN!!” Sigrun screamed, grabbing him from the arm and pulling so hard he would have toppled to the ground had he not moved his feet.

Now it had noticed them both.

They ran.

*****

“Oh, I’m so sorry Mikkel! Your brother told me about… Well, your brother told me. I’m sorry, I just… You’re nice and kind and hardworking but I just don’t feel that way. Don’t take it personally! We can still be friends! Are you all right? Do you feel all right? _How_ do you feel?”

No matter how hard Mikkel tried to convince the girl before him (a scrawny woman with freckles on her face and a pleasant smile) that there was no cause for concern, that there hadn’t been any issue to begin with, she wouldn’t believe him. She seemed convinced to cheer him up from the heartbreak that she believed she herself had caused.

Damn his brother.

Always noticing too much and always speaking too much. Mikkel hadn’t even been acting any differently. He had just made the mistake of looking at Runa’s innocent smile a second longer than normal. And his brother (being his usual busybody self) took notice and decided to “help” Mikkel.

Oh, his intentions were good enough, Mikkel had no doubt about that. But Mikkel knew perfectly well that there had never been any chance for him and Runa in the first place; she had been making eyes at the prettyboy next door for half a year now. He knew this perfectly well and therefore any “feelings” he might have had hadn’t deviated from simply enjoying her pretty smile.

His brother’s train of thought hadn’t got so far though, and his meddling nature won over.

Again.

Mikkel wasn’t angry. He rarely got angry. Especially at his little brothers and sisters and _even more_ at Per, who always found new and creative ways to attempt to “improve” Mikkel’s life.

He was far too young to be accustomed with failure, as Mikkel was.

He had yet to learn that patience and hard work did not always yield the right results.

He had yet to know that simply trying your best did not matter all that much in real life.

For Per the world was still simple and comprehensible and so he came to his big brother, face drenched in tears, asking why his plan hadn’t worked.

And now Mikkel was left having to console him about his failure while simultaneously convincing him not to give up on the things he wanted in life. Advice on not meddling in other people’s lives had to be added in the mix. Explanation on how relationships work was a must. Plus a mild punishment had to be issued, as to make the lesson stick to his brain.

Thankfully, having a half a dozen younger siblings before Per had given him plenty of experience, and so by lunchtime the little boy had _just_ finished sweeping the murky stable. (Mikkel hated cleaning that stable and the youngest of his siblings had yet to catch on the fact that when he was issuing them punishments he was usually saddling them with the sort of work he disliked the most. Every time one of them caught on, he patiently explained that it was for “building character”. They still bought it.)

He understood his little brother’s frustration though, at least up to a point. He _was_ a masculine, moral and methodical man (the three Ms of being Mikkel Madsen, although his twin just mocked him of being a masochistic, mischievous and max-sized man) and yet his professional (and romantic) life was dotted by a series of failures.

“Why,” Per would ask.

“I am too good for this cruel world,” Mikkel would joke and up to a point it would be true. Being practical and doing what needing to be done for the job and for everyone else meant that _very little_ was left to be done for yourself.

Mikkel didn’t mind, although appreciation about his efforts would be appreciated.

So when Sigrun had announced loudly and proudly that she was deemed “the most best out of everyone” with a big smile on her face (especially right after proving that she had not bothered to read her crewmates’ files) Mikkel felt more than a bit skeptical:

If she was, indeed, the… sigh… the “most best”, there would be _much too many_ sacrifices in her life and there was no chance she would be so happy about it.

*****

The wheezing troll following them was fast, but thankfully not _too_ fast. It didn’t catch up to them as they trotted on freshly fallen snow, or when Mikkel slipped on a patch of ice and almost lost his balance. It _almost_ reached them when they were passing through the rubble of a ruined building and had to slow down to avoid tripping, but Sigrun readily threw a rock at its face. Mikkel was extremely satisfied to see the rock getting straight into that gaping mouth, causing the troll to slow down and start gagging. He was less pleased when it managed to spit the rock out with startling speed, hitting Sigrun squarely on the forehead.

There wasn’t any time to lose anymore. He grabbed the staggering captain before she could fall on her face, spotted a small opening among the debris, something that could have once been a basement or a cellar, and made a beeline for it as fast as his legs could carry him (and Sigrun).

He barely managed to squeeze inside, trying to not hurt Sigrun’s head any worse, and ran on into the darkness as that misshapen head went after them.

The room was very small; he had already reached the far wall and there was no door in sight. He would have to wrestle the thing himself–

The pained choking sound that followed told Mikkel that the troll was too large to get properly in. He glanced back, seeing the troll’s head and neck just a couple of meters away from them, biting and wheezing in the air. Its small front legs scrambled on the rubble for purchase, and Mikkel had no doubt that if it managed to remove some of the surrounding debris it would get in.

Sigrun stirred slightly in his arms, muttering something about “trolls having a noob’s aim” just as the grossling pulled back its head in frustration and started clawing at the rubble surrounding the opening.

Mikkel carefully laid Sigrun down and removed her knife from its scabbard, warily eyeing the troll’s movements. Time seemed to have stood still as he watched the grossling cough and drool on the rocks, push small rubble around with its huge, sweaty forehead, leave tiny claw marks on the opening, filling the air inside the small room with its rancid smell.

The troll finally growled in frustration and disappeared from sight; although Mikkel had no doubt that it would not get very far (at least for a while), rather circle around and try to find another way in.

For now, though, they were safe. He took a deep breath and sat down beside Sigrun, adrenaline getting out of his system. The severity of their situation did not escape him: they were trapped inside a ruined building with no water and an angry troll waiting just outside.

Unless Emil came after them with a gun, they were done for. And would he be skilled enough to deal with that behemoth alone? And what if the troll returned to the tank and laid waste there? And what if something else, something smaller and more agile caught up to them in this tiny hole? What then?

Sigrun got up slowly, wiping the blood from her forehead with a wince. At least she had been out for only a few seconds and woke up by herself; she shouldn’t have got a concussion.

“Why are we hiding in here like a bunch of cowards?”

*****

After watching Sigrun function for a prolonged amount of time (read: two days) he started to wonder on the topic of How Has Sigrun Managed To Keep Herself Alive Till Now.

Brash. Defiant. Careless. Emotional. Cocky. Goofy.

She reminded him of his third youngest brother, who was always so eager to prove himself. He would do the stupidest and most dangerous things (each and every one of them would be heartily approved by Sigrun, he could tell).

The difference between them was that one was a fourteen-year-old teenager, the other an experienced adult captain.

She was clearly strong and skilled; but the way she carried herself and the stupidity and immaturity of her words left him pondering. The trolls didn’t mind if there were brains behind the person slaughtering them or not, but that didn’t explain how she managed to survive after making so risky tactical decisions. Repeatedly.

Luck? Stubbornness? Oh, and the usual explanation: there always was an unfortunate subordinate around, someone who could sometimes talk some sense into her (read: _sometimes_ ).

*****

“And that is why, and I insist, we cannot go out right now.”

“Nonsense! You haven’t convinced me at all! Now give me back my knife and I’ll slash that sucker’s mouth in two. See how well he can breathe with two mouths!”

Mikkel would expect that a person injured on the head would look less threatening than usual. Sigrun, however, had smeared her own blood all over her face in an attempt to get it out of her eyes, resulting in a terrifying image.

“Sigrun–”

“That’s an order!”

She was the captain but he was the medic. It was his trump card.

“You cannot think clearly right now.” Or ever. “You’ve sustained a head wound. As the team’s medic, I absolutely forbid you to take action until _I say_ your skull can handle it. Therefore I apologize, but I cannot return your weapon to you.”

Sigrun looked at him for a couple of seconds with a completely blank face before scowling. “And how long do you propose I sit here on my butt, No-credentials doctor?”

Deep breath. “That remains to be seen. At least until we hear sounds of battle from outside. Emil is bound to follow us, he will catch up sooner or later. He will probably bring you your weapon, too. The two of you stand a much better chance at killing it.”

Sigrun scoffed. “I can manage well enough by myself and you know it. Emil is more likely to get lost–”

“Our tracks are fresh in the snow.”

“–or get something _else_ to follow him and then we’ll have to battle _two_ fuglies.”

“This particular troll has made enough noise during the purchase. Logically speaking, if there are any more… fuglies… along the way, they have already heard us and we are about to make their acquaintance.”

Another blank stare from Sigrun, though this one lasted less. She’s catching on to him.

“Look, Mikkel, I know you are trying to help, but trust me, this isn’t helping. We are only delaying the inevitable. I am going to have to kick its butt sooner or later and I prefer to _not_ let Emil start the attack himself. He’ll probably panic and start screaming, you know.”

“You could–”

“Plus what if there’s _another_ troll back to the camp and it’s attacking the helpless ones while we two are sitting here on our butts and chattering. What if Emil is fighting _that_ alone, huh?”

Mikkel had to admit that this was not a negligible possibility.

“I’m glad we agree and not losing any more time. Now give me my knife and I’ll get rid of this vacuum-face pronto.”

Mikkel stepped back. “Not just yet. You are still injured and that thing is much larger than you. We need a plan.”

Sigrun’s face morphed into a pondering expression that did not suit her at all. “All right. How about I attack it and kill it.”

“A more detailed plan than that.”

Sigrun’s voice strained. “How about you run in circles slowly, acting as bait, while I attack it and kill it. It might work for the first two seconds.”

Mikkel’s voice remained level, thanks to decades of practice. “A less risky plan than that.”

A growl and a wheeze from outside interrupted their conversation; no other sounds followed. No screams, no gunshots: the troll was still outside and it was getting riled up by the noise they made. At least, thanks to that, it wouldn’t return to the camp for a while.

Sigrun resumed talking in a calmer voice: “Look, anything more detailed than that is not going to work. Trolls have a way to surprise you, all right? You never know exactly what they can do until they do it! Straight-up going for the heads while avoiding any sharp and heavy parts is the only plan _I_ know, and I’ll take notes on which are the dangerous parts along the way, all right?”

“All trolls are composed of similar parts that perform similar functions,” Mikkel said in a flat voice, “and so it is possible to predict their actions up to a point, provided you use logical thought. If you would listen to my advice–”

“Look, I just don’t _do_ detailed plans, ok?”

“I’ve noticed,” Mikkel said in an even flatter voice. “If you had not overworked the scout, we would not be in this position right now.”

By now he could see that Sigrun was getting angry. “Whaat? What are you saying right now? I didn’t order the twig to find the new campsite, he offered to do that himself!”

“Which would not result in his collapse if we had been working at a slower pace.”

“If we worked at the pace _you_ propose you’d _still have us stuck in that tunnel!_ Look, mate, if you have any complains about my leadership we can discuss them later, we have more pressing matters right now!”

“That is _my point,_ ” replied Mikkel, glancing at the opening. “You have proved multiple times that your planning abilities are far from the “most best”; therefore you should listen to my advice _now_ because this is a really tight situation and we don’t have much time to lose.”

“This is _really_ not the time for rebellions,” Sigrun said in an exasperated voice. “Just do as you’re told, give me back my knife, and I’ll forget about this whole insubordination thing. I’ll file it under you being stubborn and scar–”

*****

Mikkel is a methodical worker. A dedicated subordinate. A reliable friend. An effective soldier.

That is, until he gets _too_ effective for the liking of his boss. Too meddling for the liking of his friends. Then they tend to want to find someone more obeying, a meeker person. Someone _they_ can handle, instead of someone who can handle _hardships._

Everyone’s got an ego to feed inside of them, and Mikkel is the sort of person who makes other people’s egos deflate. _That_ is the secret to his permanent failures. He has learnt that honesty comes at a high price; _that_ is the reason why he is so confused by Sigrun.

She is _honest, straightforward._ Not exactly like him; he still gets his point across, but by the time the other person realizes it, it is far too late, they have been tricked. Sigrun on the other hand just says what she’s thinking and consequences be damned. Often there are plenty of consequences (like right now) but she damns them anyway. Sigrun deflates other people’s egos just as fast.

And so _how_ has she managed to avoid angering anyone long enough to become a captain? The trolls don’t need eloquence of words; people do. How could she be so successful in her career?

Although maybe she hasn’t been doing as well as he thought, after all. They are _both_ stuck in a tiny room in the silent world with a troll waiting for them just outside; each for their own reasons, but both equally stuck. Perhaps their honest nature will be their final undoing, for the both of them.

*****

“…I’ll file it under you being stubborn and sca–”

They both jumped by the troll sticking its head into the opening and coughing at them in a way so improper, if Mikkel’s uptight mother-in-law had done it (he had a feeling his mother-in-law would be really uptight, _if_ he had one) he would have blackmail material for decades.

Sigrun reacted so fast that Mikkel didn’t have time to blink. She seized her knife from his slackened grip and lunged at the monster’s face.

She’ll make it, Mikkel realized in some subconscious level as he watched the armed hand fly towards the enemy. She’ll make it.

Unfortunately, slow as the thing was while running, the speed of its neck and reflexes was a completely different story.

The gaping mouth with its malformed teeth closed around the blade, shattering it in a million pieces. Blood sprayed from the corners of its mouth where the knife had cut it slightly, and Sigrun had _just_ enough time to retract her arm before the troll crushed _that_ as well.

They were stuck staring at the now-tiny broken blade still in Sigrun’s hand, the troll coughing and gagging at them a few centimeters away from her, filling the room with its awful stench. Whatever their chances of fighting it at close quarters had been before, now, with the half-a-finger long leftovers of a blade, they were null.

Sigrun looked up at Mikkel.

“Sooo… Plan. Maybe we could give it some of your cooking and hope it kills itself out of horror.”

“Very funny, Sigrun.”

*****

He can see the insecurity shine through, even if she’ll never admit it. Always eager to fight, always eager to risk, always eager to take on whichever mission, apparently because (as far as Mikkel can guess) a life where she doesn’t get to be “the most best” is not a life worth living.

Whatever a renowned captain has yet to prove is lost to Mikkel, but apparently not to Sigrun. And despite her endless teasing and criticism aimed at everyone and everything, it’s Emil she has stood out from the crowd, the other insecure and eager-to-prove-himself soldier. It’s Emil who she tries to support and encourage the most. It’s a good thing, because he is inexperienced and afraid, but then again so is Tuuri, and even more so the civilian they are charged to protect.

Mikkel is sure that despite her openness, her simplicity and her sincerity, insecurity is a truth she will never admit.

And subsequently, neither are her mistakes, her miscalculations nor her lack of judgment. She will perhaps acknowledge her mistakes (in private), learn from them (otherwise How Has Sigrun Managed To Keep Herself Alive Till Now), move on to the next challenge as soon as possible, but _never do anything to mar the image of the most best, most trustworthy, most unwavering captain._ And perhaps that is why she has been harsher at Mikkel and Lalli: they are the experienced ones, the ones she expects to carry loads according to their abilities and there is no room for mistakes in the silent world. She strives for them to achieve perfection as well.

Maybe, if she would admit to her shortcomings more, if she was more willing to listen to Mikkel’s ideas, they wouldn’t be stuck in here right now, or maybe she would have waited more and found a way to attack the troll without ruining their one weapon.

Honest indeed, but not honest enough.

*****

“Great! Now we’re stuck in here with this ugly face breathing at us! If it breaths for much longer I think I’ll pass out from the smell.”

There are a lot of things Mikkel could say in reply to that, but he knows that further upsetting Sigrun would not help their cause.

“We’ll just have to wait for Emil to come and distract it,” he proposes with a level voice.

“Excellent idea! We’ll have a perfect view of it eating my right-hand warrior. Then we’ll die.”

“Why must you think of the worst-case scenario? It’s not really helping when you do that.”

“Oh, you’re right,” Sigrun replies casually. “It will eat Emil, taste in him the horrible sludge you have been feeding us, vomit him then kill itself from terror. We two might survive.”

“Perhaps,” Mikkel interrupts her, “if you agree to listen to me for once we can figure something out together.”

“ _Fine._ Propose your ingenious plan, then,” Sigrun growls at him.

“It involves… food,” he says after a slight hesitation.

Sigrun rolls her eyes and Mikkel is sure her subsequent yell actually momentarily stunned the troll breathing at them:

_“I proposed feeding it your food ages ago!!”_

Mikkel had to smile at that one.

“Actually, we’ll feed it _your_ food instead.”

*****

It’s barely a couple of minutes later when they emerge from the room back into the sun, victorious, while the troll runs away, screaming in pain.

Every troll is unique.

Every troll is unpredictable.

They’ve had hardly any time to observe _this_ troll.

But Mikkel has observed enough:

Sigrun has a great aim.

There are plenty of rocks around, thanks to the debris.

A stunned troll moves more slowly, and for a few movements it’s easy to hit, even with a tiny, broken blade.

So Mikkel stood still, at the ready, the remnant of the knife held tightly in his large hand, and watched as Sigrun bombarded the thing with rocks, each and every one of them into that open mouth and down the throat.

At the first rock, the troll had recoiled slightly; but it was too angry to step back and instead started gagging again, maybe hoping to return the favor once again. Before it could do anything more though, two more stones had gotten into its mouth, and Mikkel had just enough time to scratch the blade against its eyes.

It would have bitten him nonetheless if Sigrun hadn’t filled its mouth with three more rocks while she was at it.

The result was a terrible gurgle that would have probably been a screech if its throat had been clear, a vomit of rocks, and the now blind troll head smashing itself against the walls a couple of times before recoiling in pain.

Mikkel and Sigrun watched it back away and run around blindly.

Sigrun eyed the soaked, disgusting rocks at her feet. “Unorthodox method. I like it. Beats the troll vomiting Emil, anyway.”

*****

They still have to hurry back to the camp. The troll is blind, but it is screaming and angry, catching everything’s attention and things can only get worse. The faster the team re-assembles, the better.

“I’ll have to admit,” Sigrun gasps as they ran back towards the way they came, “your plan was not so bad. Death by vomit. A very shameful way to die, reserved for only the most hated of enemies.”

Appreciation at being appreciated. Mikkel’s chest feels wonderfully light and full, despite the fact that he is out of breath.

He feels the need to return the favor.

“It wouldn’t have worked without your skills.”

“Duh! Of course. You’d all be dead without me!”

Sigrun might not admit her own mistakes, but she is good at pointing out everyone else’s achievements. A really good kind of honesty.

*****

They reach the camp and find it on fire.

Not huge flames, admittedly, but flames nonetheless.

“What happened?!” screams Sigrun, arms in the air in exasperation.

Emil’s head pokes from behind of the tank, a smile immediately forming on his young face.

“Oh thank heavens, you are alright! Did you lose that thing?”

“Why is everything around the tank _on fire?!_ ” Sigrun yells.

“Oh, that! Well, we didn’t know how quickly you two would be back, and we didn’t want risking infectious air getting into the tank when we opened the doors, what if someone gagged and had to remove their mask or something? And how can you clean air? So I thought burning the air around the tank would do the trick–”

“You can’t burn air,” Mikkel intervenes, but Emil doesn’t understand him anyway and the way his eyes sparkle informs Mikkel that their cleanser _really feels the urge_ to set things on fire.

…Just one more thing to pay attention to in the future, then. Hopefully, after a good lecture, the next time he thought setting something on fire would be a good idea, he might restrain himself long enough to think twice.

If Sigrun has any thoughts on her right-hand-warrior’s antics, she doesn’t share. They just get into the tank, along with some smoke, resulting in furious coughing from anyone who does not wear a mask.

And then Tuuri drives away at top speed, while Sigrun sits restlessly on the desk and lets Mikkel dress her wound.

“You’re lucky it didn’t break the bone,” he explains.

“ _You_ are lucky your plan worked,” she replies with a scowl. “I would have fed _you_ to the troll and wait till it got a tummy ache to get out.”

“M-hm. I don’t believe the situation was my fault for you to demonstrate such hostility,” Mikkel answered with a barely discernible smile.

His smile melted away when he saw Sigrun’s expression. “You disobeyed a _direct order_. If I had my knife in my hand when it popped its head in, I would have attacked faster. It wouldn't have time to react.”

Mikkel kept his voice perfectly calm. Straight face. Absolute sincerity. “I wasn’t disobeying you. You were injured and I just followed protocol.”

“Protocol is just the thing you use to make things go _your_ way when you want to make sure everyone obeys _you!_ Or it’s the thing you rely on when _you_ don’t know what to do!”

Mikkel found himself falling silent, and not because his silence spoke louder than words, as it usually did.

When Sigrun spoke again, her voice was softer. “Protocol is all good and nice, but when you are in the heat of the battle, it won’t help you. It’s better to back down and follow the orders of someone with more experience. You’re a level headed person, you can do it.”

Mikkel remained quiet for a while, then spoke again as he started packing his tools. “You too, you should listen to me more. Some of my ideas are worth your while, and you’re not infallible.”

Sigrun’s voice had a strange tone in it when she replied. “No one is. But I do my best. My most best.”

“You didn’t even read the files of your crew,” Mikkel pointed out.

Sigrun threw her hands up in the air. “It didn’t matter what was in the files! _This was my crew,_ I couldn’t change that even if I saw something I didn’t like, I had to _work with all of you no matter what!_ Do you think that a person’s potential can be perfectly expressed by a bunch of papers, anyway?”

Mikkel had to agree to that, although he would never voice it. After facing so many failures, any single mistake of his could… wait.

“Plus I hate reading,” Sigrun added before he could ponder on that line of thought for longer.

But maybe it had been long enough.

“To wrap things up, No-credentials, you are smart and sensible and I value your opinion _but if you disobey me again_ I’ll make _you_ troll bait and assign the cooking to _Reynir!_ He can’t do worse than the sludge you’ve been feeding us, anyway. Understood?”

Mikkel smiled.

“Understood.”

Perhaps _their_ kind of honesty might actually work out.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed it! :)  
> The next one will be a Tuuri & Reynir fic!


End file.
